I'll Keep You Close to My Heart
by ororomunroe531
Summary: Remy takes off with his young son out of New Orleans when Belladonna places a hit on him. How will Rogue react to this latest turn of events? five years and nine months after Cajun Spice.
1. Traitor

I had always loved Belladonna. Even at the tender age of fourteen, when our on-again-off-again shaky romance was perhaps two weeks in, I realized that I had loved her. Just a few years prior, mon Pere had informed me of how we were to unite the guilds. I was ten years old, I had still believed that all girls had cooties and weren't supposed to come into your treehouse.

But the teenage years have you feeling everything deeper than you do before them, and after them.

I remember being fourteen well, it was quite the year. I achieved my Master Thief status, I had my first hangover, and mistook my brother-sister-type puppy-dog love for the real deal with Belladonna.

And then the years flew, four of them, until I was just barely legal, and still rebellious as hell to my seemingly uncaring father. By this time, I had realized that an arranged marriage wasn't at all on my agenda, and that I was almost offended by the very idea. Screw that, I _was _offended by the idea. I'm his son! Didn't he want me to marry of my own accord, for love, happiness?

I know Pere cares about me. He just thinks in a fashion that I could never—If someone is around and convenient, you use them. It's just that simple. He doesn't really comprehend that people are hurt by this, it's just not in his nature.

Anyway, I knew I had always loved Belle. Belladonna Boudreaux is a drop-dead gorgeous blonde bombshell, add in the fact that she can wield practically any kind of weapon imaginable without a second thought, well… Ask any male what he thinks of that image.

The difference is, _she _never really loved _me._ In truth, I think my decision to join Magneto was also highly influenced by that fact, not just rebellion to my father and his tactlessness. I was eighteen-ish, almost nineteen, and I was feeling depressed, rebellious, angry, and all-out spiteful. Spiteful to my father and the way he used me, spiteful to Belladonna and how she always made me wear sunglasses when she was anywhere near me, spiteful to my guild, spiteful to my own mutant status. And then, out of the blue, comes this recruiting call from some basket-case.

Now, under normal circumstances, I would have listened three sentences in and hung up the phone with a laugh. A known mutant terrorist, trying to recruit me to be his minion? Hell no. I'm a thief, not a killer or a lackey of any kind. But like I said, spiteful, rebellious, angry, and when I overheard my father, that stubborn streak that I posses to this very day flared up.

"Non, monsieur, Remy cannot take your offer," Jean-Luc had spoken into the phone that day. "Y' are jus' goin' t' have t' find someone else for—" And that was when I ripped the phone from his fingers.

"H'lo, dis be Remy LeBeau. May I ask who is callin'?" I asked while I glared daggers into my father's face, taking full advantage of my demon eyes.

"Ah, finally," a deep, wise voice spoke from the other line. "My name is Erik Lensherr, and I would like to recruit you to be a member of my mutant Acolytes." He patiently awaited my response as I waged a war with my eyes at my Pere.

"Sure, I'll do it." I grinned as I said it. _Take that, bitch, _I had thought toward my father.

"Ah, excellent. I and one of my associates will be in New Orleans on Bourbon Street tomorrow at noon. Be there." And without a goodbye, the man had hung up.

"Do y' have any _idea _what ya just signed yo'self up for?" Jean-Luc had demanded as I smirked at his rage. "Any idea what y' jus' done to de guild? T' y' _family_?" I gave him a casual one-fingered wave goodbye as I strolled out of the office I had stormed into minutes earlier.

I didn't know then that I would be working a year for Magneto, that I would miss Tante and Henri and Mercy any my cousins so much while I was away. I didn't know then that I would end up doing so many things that I would hate myself for while under the employment of Buckethead. I didn't know that I would meet the most intriguing, gorgeous, enchanting femme I had ever laid eyes on, or that she would hate my guts after the first time we met. I sure as hell hadn't guessed that I would kidnap said intriguing girl.

What I did guess right was that I would end up back in the guild. Or, in my case, guilds.

That's right, I'm _married_ to Belle. It circled back to Belladonna. It _always _circles back to Belladonna.

The year that I had worked for Magneto came to an abrupt halt after I had brought ma Cherie to Louisiana. My father had guilted me into staying for a while, and that was all it took to rope me back into guild politics.

After the large ceremony that had been attended by most of both guilds, Belle had moved into the thieves guild-house. We weren't but two months into out new life when Belladonna had said three words to change everything I thought:

"Remy, I'm pregnant."

That was five years and nine months ago.

_Remy, I'm pregnant. _Those words just kept circling around in my head. We really did not need this right now. I mean, sure, we were both destined to be the leaders of our guilds, and since we were married we would have to be with each other always. We would have to be faithful, and act loving. That was what was going to unite our guilds.

In spite of those things, having a child now would add so many complications. Lord knows that Jean-Luc and Marius would not hand their guilds over until the were old and senile. While I usually joked about Pere being old, I highly doubted he and Marius would show any signs of senility within nine months.

There was also the issue of where the child would grow up. Which guild house, thief or assassin? Or should Belladonna and I just get our own house off somewhere private?

These thoughts were all running through my mind, very worrisome. And yet, I could not beat down the pure joy bubbling to the surface. I couldn't restrain the excitement, and it had shown on my face, sparkling in my eyes, and causing a huge grin that ended up making my face hurt.

"'M gonna be a Pere?" I whispered to Belle. She gave a much smaller smile than mine and nodded.

"Oui."

Looking back now, I realize a few things I didn't back then. I had been doting on my wife, waiting on her hand and foot to the point where she would periodically remind me that she was not an invalid. I didn't care. I was so happy. This woman that I knew I loved, (though I was confused as to what extent) was going to have my child.

I was elated when we found out it was going to be a boy. I was imaging all the things we would be able to do together in time. Teaching him to play catch, helping him with his homework, birthdays, first steps, first holidays, all of it.

What I realize now, is that I didn't recognize how Belle really didn't seem to have any opinions on this baby at all. I wasn't _able_ to see it over my own joyous preparations. But she wasn't happy, or sad about anything to do with the baby itself. Pregnancy on the other hand… Let's just say having to take maternity leave was not on Belladonna's list of things to do.

But when that boy was born, I actually saw a spark of something akin to love, or maybe just caring, as she held him and stroked his tiny fluff of blonde hair. I think she finally realized, this was her child. Her flesh and blood. So helpless, and tiny, and in need of nurturing.

But then he opened his eyes. In that instant, I saw that spark leave Belladonna's eyes. In fact, her eyes went as hard and uncaring as glass, and her body went rigid.

"Take him," she said coldly as she held him out to me. I didn't see what the problem was until I looked into my son's eyes for the first time. I let out a little gasp.

Blue on black. The same color of blue as his mother's eyes. Really, there was no mistaking that this was Belladonna's child. It was there on the color of his eyes, and that little fluff of hair on his head was the same color of spun gold as Belle's. It was sticking up at some funny angles, and I wasn't sure if that was because he was a newborn, or because he inherited my hair and how impossible it was to tame.

I ended up naming him, because Belladonna just didn't seem interested in anything going on around her. I put it off to childbirth being tiring. I named him Alexander Henri LeBeau.

I loved that child like nothing else, and I still do. But Belladonna was distanced from him, and she soon grew to hate him outright. Mercy brought this to my attention on his second birthday. I was true, and on some level I had known it for a while, and it broke my heart. How could anyone hate an innocent child? Especially one as sweet as my Xandy?

Xandy… I still owe Emil a good ass-kicking for that one. Who nicknames a child Xandy? Well, Emil apparently, because it would 'piss me off.' I kept telling him not to call my son that. It stuck anyway. Five years after the fact and my son is still introducing himself as Xandy. Ah, well. I suppose that's my Karma for insisting on calling 'Ro 'Stormy' when she was still with us, as much as it annoyed her.

All this tension over Belladonna and Xandy came to a head about a month ago, on Xandy's fifth birthday, in August.

I had found out that Belladonna had hired one of her assassins to off him. When I confronted her about it, she had yelled in my face, "I had to, Remy! He fucked up all my plans! I need him out of my life."

"Out of your life?" I had asked incredulously. "He's not even in it! So, what, you've just kept him around for appearances, is dat it?"

"Oui! Dat's exactly it! Because your stupid t'ieves would 'ave been sore about it if I'd aborted de little freak!"

At that point, I had done something I swore I would never do outside of combat; I hit a woman. Slapped that _chienne _right across the face. (chienne: bitch)

"How dare y'?" My voice was pure venom, and there was a deep and fiery rage burning in my chest. That was my son she was talking about! "I'm leavin', Belle. Fuck de guilds, fuck dis stupid situation, an' fuck you." I made a decision right then to get the hell away from this psychopath that I had thought I loved.

I turned around to the wardrobe that was standing behind me (We had been talking in our bedroom.) And ripped the doors open so forcefully, I'm surprised that the whole thing didn't fall on me. I then grabbed a few outfits off their hangers, and grabbed the duffel bag that was resting on the floor of the wardrobe. I stuffed the clothes into it as I walked out of the room and down the hallway. When I came to Xandy's room, I grabbed a bunch of his clothes and stuffed them in the duffel bag, too. I was about to leave the room when I noticed Xandy's favorite toy. He never went anywhere without it, a ragged old stuffed alligator.

I had found it among the dusty old boxes in the attic when I went up there for the photo albums. I had wanted to show Xandy some pictures of ma Maman, and Jean-Luc refused to have any in his vicinity with any regularity. They were too painful for him. I could understand this, of course. Even though I had only known her, Alexandra LeBeau, for a few years when I was eight and nine, I lover her dearly, and missed her deeply. But I thought that Xandy should see who his Grandmere was, and who he was named after.

But as soon as he caught sight of that alligator, it's smiling mouth and one button eye hanging on to its head by a thread, he loved it. Tante Mattie had sewed the eye back into place and stitched up a hole where stuffing was falling out. The hole used to be a leg, but it looked like it had been ripped off the poor, bedraggled toy. Her name was Greta Gator, and Xandy loved her.

I pulled myself out of my musings and threw the toy into the duffel. Zipping up the bag, I made my way out of the room and down the hall to the staircase. I could hear Xandy and Henri's voices drifting up the stairs. Before heading down, I schooled my features into a smile.

Walking into the common room, I saw Xandy sitting on the floor, drawing on construction paper with his brand new pencils we had gotten him for school, he was going to start in the fall. He was explaining what he was drawing to Henri.

"See, Oncle, dat's Greta Gator, dere's me, dere's Pere. He's stickin' his tongue out at Grandpere. Dere's y' and Tante Mercy. An' Tante Mattie's tellin' Belladonna dat she can't have any cookies." I smiled sadly at the last declaration. My son barely even registered that Belle was his mother. So much so that he called her by her name. He knew that technically, she was his mom. But he didn't ever call her 'Mere,' or 'Maman' or even 'Mom.'

Henri looked up at me. He threw me a concerned look at the bag I was holding. He knew that this was my 'running' bag, I had used it often enough. I ignored the look as I made my way over to them. I sat the bag down on the coffee table, and went over to sit on the floor with Xandy.

"Hey, kiddo. I have a birthday surprise fo' ya." I tell him. He looked up at me with wide eyes. Those blue on black eyes, so much me, yet so much Belladonna.

"Wow, really? What is it, Pere?" he asks.

"Y' an' me, we're gonna go on a li'l trip. Jus' de two o' us."

"Oh, _cool_!" he jumped up from his seat on the floor, drawing forgotten. "Where we goin' Pere?"

"Um. We goin' up North," I blurted without thinking. I decided I liked this plan and went along with it. "We're goin' t' de town I lived in a while back. If y' like it dere, dat's where we'll stay."

"Stay?" Xandy asked. "But what about Grandpere, an' Oncle Henri, Tante Mercy an' Mattie?" I definitely noticed how the only person he left out was Belladonna. Good for him.

"Dey can visit us, Xandy," I assured him. Truth was, I was dubious about Tante Mattie or Pere ever visiting. Pere ain't been out of state since he got the guild handed down to him, and I'm not sure Tante Mattie's _ever _been out of New Orleans. "Jus' t'ink, Xandy. It'll be a great adventure. Ya and I will meet all kinds o' new people, an' see all kinds o' t'ings. And," my tone turned mischievous. "Steal from all kinds o' different places an' people."

That adorable, fiendish glint in his eye told me that I had him. All I had let him do so far was a bit of low-level pickpocketing on unsuspecting tourists, but I did know hat he wanted to do much more.

"So, go say goodbye to Tante Mattie an' yo' Gramdpere," I told him. "We're leavin' in twenty minutes." And with that he raced out of the room. When he was out of earshot, Henri turned to me.

"So, y' mind tellin' me what de hell dat was all about?" He asked me.

"Belle has a hit order out on him. Th' only way he'll be safe is if I get him the hell out of N'Awlins. So dat's what I'm doin'."

"Good lord… She's his Mere!" Henri immediately switched to rage. "What de fuck she t'inkin'?"

"I don' really gave a half a damn. I jus' wan' my son t' be safe." I sighed. "Pass de message on t' Pere an' Mercy an' Tante Mattie fo' me, s'il vous plait? I don' have time fo' goodbyes, or any more explanations. De hit's scheduled fo' sometime today." Henri nodded.

"Go. Get him to safety."

And that's exactly what I did.

Don't worry, it'll be a Romy. And I'm seriously enjoying writing form Remy's point of view, too.

Please review, reviews are love and I'm feeling lonely. So give me a little joyness in my life and press that little button down there. If you don't have an account, or aren't logged in, you could always leave and anonymous review… *Puppy-Dog Eyes*

—Zandra :3


	2. My Car is Ugly

AN/ Shout out to Indidgo! :D No, I don't say that to all my reviewers.

And to the other five of you that reviewed, thank you so much! I got six reviews witin 24 hours of posting. That just rocks my socks and pushes me to write more. So, here you are: a brand new chapter! On with the show!

XxXxXxXxX

I cast a quick glance at Xandy in the rearview mirror. He was sleeping peacefully in his booster seat, clutching Greta Gator in his little hands.

It was four in the morning. Xandy and I had been driving for fourteen hours, and I was sore as hell. Not to mention tired. Six more hours of driving and we'd be there, so I decided to stop and get some sleep. I would be useless to protect Xandy if I got myself killed driving, after all.

XxXxXxXxX

Five hours of sleep and a Burger King stop later, we were back on the road. I was trying to figure out what we were going to do once we got into Bayville. I sure as hell wasn't going to go back to the Acolyte base with a five year old. I didn't think that the brotherhood would be a very good environment for Xandy, either.

Truth be told, I was probably better off asking Xavier for help, or Stormy at least. Once a thief, always a thief, right? Although, maybe Stormy wouldn't exactly welcome a blast from the past. She didn't part from us on bad terms, or anything, but… Her exact words had been 'I need to start a new life for myself. I thought I did that here, but following the same career here as I did before I was a goddess did not exactly separate me from my past. I need to live on the other side of the law, for a change.' And she hadn't even said hello when she found out I was in the neighborhood. Sure, I had been under the employment of her enemy, but…

Eh. I should just get an apartment. I guess that means dipping into the emergency fund. So happy I made that private bank account.

"Pere, what's dat?" Xandy asked hours later. There was something in the air. Too small to be a plane, too big to be a bird… Was it fluttering? No, the cape was fluttering. Oh, shit. That's Magneto. And there's someone in the air behind him. Stormy! I looked down under where they were in the air to see a raging wall of fire attacking… Magneto? What? But that looked like John's fire…

"Lord," I whispered. Magneto now had seven or eight cars circling him, their doors ripping off and reforming into spiked balls of metal. Xandy and I were now almost right under the action. Or, right in front of it, if you count the battle on the ground.

"Stay here," I ordered Xandy firmly. "Do not leave this car." I opened the door and jumped out, my jean clad legs scattering fast-food wrappers and potato-chip bags as I emerged from the SUV. "Damn," I hissed as I realized I was not wearing my trench. I only had one pack of cards on me, in the pocket of my polo shirt. I'll just have to make do. Because fact is, I was trained as a mutant superhero. Or supervillain, depending on who you ask.

But it looked like Magneto was in a rage. I have a trained eye for fighting, and I could definitely see that Pyro was on he X-Men's side, but it was also painfully obvious that he had no idea how to work with them as a team. Pyro could fight, and he was good as a team member with a little training, that much I knew. The conclusion I came to was that Magneto had found out about John defecting and went after him, only to have them all fight against him.

In spite of the numbers against him, and his obvious injuries, Magneto was utterly handing the X-Men's asses to them. It was a pretty small team, though, so…

OH MY GOD.

My gaze rested upon a deliciously-figured femme, fighting like hell with a stubborn set to her jaw. I noticed those two exotic white stripes in her hair, the only part of it that wasn't up in a ponytail. They were framing two fiery-spirited green eyes, squinting into the dust kicked up by the destruction all around.

Then, one of Magneto's spiky metal car-door balls started hurtling toward her unawares, from behind.

"DUCK, Chere!" I cried out without thinking as I threw six supercharged cards toward the spiky death sphere. It exploded harmlessly above her. She whipped around in wide-eyed surprise as she heard my voice. I saw her eyes spark with some unidentified emotion, but I didn't get a good look at her before a jet hovered right above us, just arriving on the scene. A now buffer, older, and taller version of Cyclops jumped out and landed between me and Rogue, just before he lifted his hand to his visor… and hit me so hard with a plasma blast that I flew back and slammed into the car. There was a fuzzy edge to everything as I fought off unconsciousness. I heard Rogue yell at Cyclops,

"You dumbass! He saved meh from one a Mag's godforsaken projectiles, and whatta ya do? Ya blast th' poor guy. Look at him!" At the same time she was saying all this, I heard Xandy call out from the car.

"PERE! No!"

I heard the back car door slam open as Xandy jumped out. He didn't run over to me as I would have expected. I opened my blurry eyes and was surprised to see his hands glowing blue. Funny, it looked the same as when I didn't have any thing to charge and I… Oh, god, Xandy!

"Xandy!" I yell as I wobbly get to my feet. But he seems to act on instinct as he lets out a little boy battle-cry and runs straight for Cyclops. Apparently he recognized what that blue glow was from watching me in action, as he picked up a piece of rubble that had once been a piece of street. The blue glow bled into the small piece of asphalt, and he launched it at Cyclops. The guy had the sense to duck, at least. It all seemed to happen in slow motion to me, watching my son manifest his mutation. It exploded on their jet, blasting a hole clean through the ramp.

This moment was supposed to come much later, when he would be a teenager. But I suppose seeing me, his father, the man he looks up to as being the strongest guy on the planet, get tossed around like that would be pretty traumatic.

As another one of the X-Men notices this attack on their leader, a projectile heads toward Xandy. Oh HELL no! That's my kid, you bastard!

"That's my kid, you bastard!" I'm not always the best at editing my thoughts, eh? Before the projectile can hit Xandy, I leap in front of him and it embeds itself into my left bicep. I look at it and realize that it's one of those spikes that the kid with the funky hair makes. I think his mutant name was Spyke… How fitting. I look over toward Magneto, and realize that he's retreating. Thank god. That means the fight is over. Or so I think.

Wolverine runs up and tackles me. I try to roll away from Xandy, Ignoring the pain in my arm. If that bastard lands on me while I'm on Xandy, he'll be crushed! The spike sticking out of my arm impedes my movement, though, and the air is knocked out of me as three hundred pounds of adamantium skeleton and feral mutant land on top of me and Xandy. My eyes fly wide open as I hear a yelp from beneath me.

He's getting hurt! This mofo sitting on top of me is yelling at me, demanding to know what I'm doing here. But my son is in danger and I disregard everything he's saying as I rip the spike from my arm in a panic and stab it into his thigh. He jerks back from me enough that I'm able to yank my legs and torso out from under him and grab up my kid.

I look at him in a panic as he cries. He sobs into my shoulder. Oh, god, I feel so guilty. I never should have stopped the car. The X-Men are more than resourceful and they could have handled Buckethead just fine without me. Now that I've stopped to think, I hate myself for exposing him to this much violence. I was bringing him up here to protect him, dammit! Not to show him what his daddy used to do for a living!

I ignore all the questions being fielded my way, and tilt my son's head up so I can meet his eyes.

"Is anything broken, Xandy?" I ask him. He shakes his head. Poor kid's gonna have a full body bruise tomorrow, though. Talk about sore. I carry him back to the care and set him gently back in it, handing him Greta, which he gratefully clasps onto for dear life.

I am now paying attention to the people behind me again. Namely, Wolverine. I walk briskly over to him and everyone quiets down. I pull my arm back, and slam a fist into his eye as hard as I can, ignoring the pain it causes me. I know he'll heal in a matter of seconds, but I get some kind of sick joy hearing him hiss in pain. Oh, it'll heal, but that don't mean that he won't feel it.

"Ya coulda suffocated my son, y' flamin' bastard!" I yell into his face. I feel a familiar tingling sensation in my fingertips, and I have to pull the accidental charge back in before my fingerless gloves explode right on my hands.

"So, the infamous ladies man finally got a little too careless, eh?" Wolverine questioned with a sick smirk.

I was sure my eyes were glowing with the kinetic charge and the fury I was holding in at that moment. My son is not just some bastard child borne of carelessness! This time, I don't hold in the charge as I slip off my glove and punch his eye again, leaving the glove to explode on his face when my hand withdraws. Logan practically roars as it goes off. I watch in grim pleasure as the threads of muscle on the left side of his face knit back together and his eyeball starts growing back in the socket.

"Enough of this!" an anal-retentive voice commanded. I looked over to see that Cyclops, Rogue, Wolverine, and Stormy were the only ones not in the jet. He opens his mouth to most likely order us all around again, but is interrupted by Xandy.

"Are y' dat Rogue fille dat Pere talks 'bout sometimes?" He asks up at Rogue from right next to me. Well, this is embarrassing, to say the least. What? So I talk about her. I talk about a lotta stuff!

"Well, Ah don' know sugah. What exactly does he say about this 'Rogue fille'?" she asks, crouching down to his height. He walks over to her, and my heart skips a beat at the beautiful sight. My son, whom I love more than anything else in the world, bonding with the most interesting girl I have ever met.

"Well, he says dat Rogue is de mos' gorgeous femme he ever laid eyes on. An he says dat she got a fiery spirit. But I don' know why y' would wan' one o' dose, I t'ink bein' on fire all de time would hurt." He scrunched up his face. "He says he hates dat he never got to see her again, an' den he starts goin' off in French too fast for me t' understand. And then he gets dis real weird look on his face, and talks about how her soul is as beautiful as she is. But Pere," he turns back to me. I am embarrassed to admit that I was blushing by the end of all this. Trust a five-year old to blab all the secrets that you've kept for years from your whole guild right back to your former enemies.

"How d' y' see a soul?" he asks. "An' how can y' tell dat it's beautiful?"

"You can see a person's soul in their eyes, child," Stormy answers for me. She's looking right at me as she says it, too. And I remember the day when I was maybe eight years old, when I had asked that same question. My mother had answered it then, with me and Ororo listening to her from the kitchen table. I suppose it was only fitting that Stormy be the one to answer it this time.

"Hey!" Xandy said as his eyes lighted upon her. "You're Stormy!" She made a face at the name. "I seen you in pictures in Grandpere's office, and in pictures dat have Grandmere!" at the mention of Alexandra, Stormy gets a sad look in her eyes. They had been close despite only knowing each other a few months before Maman died.

"Storm? Do you know those rotten thieves?" Wolverine asked gruffly.

"Yes, Logan. I used to _be _one of those rotten thieves." Rogue's smirk at this declaration only tells me that she already knew this from the information she had absorbed from Stormy. Or maybe even me. At that moment the teleporter popped in front of us. He was more muscular than I remembered, and his hair was shorter.

"Hey, Gambit. Ze professor radioed in, he wants to know if you'll be returning with us?"

"Er, our stuff is in de car," I motion to our SUV, the one I picked out specifically for safety rating. It really wasn't the kind of car I was used to driving. Quite frankly, it's ugly as hell.

"Ah'll go with him in their car," Rogue volunteered. "For directions." I fought back a grin. Directions. _Right_. I don't need directions, it used to be in my job description to stalk these people. She knows that. Teleporter guy nods at her and ducks back into the jet.

Cyclops looks disgruntled at the fact that I'm going to be in his home. But, seeing as it was an invitation from the professor, he doesn't say anything. Wolverine, on the other hand…

"What! What the hell is Chuck thinking? We can't let that Cajun slimebag anywhere near the mansion!"

"Oh, yeah, Wolvie," I start sarcastically. "Me an' Xandy here gonna rob y' blind. Dat is de _exact _reason I brought a five-year-old twenty hours o' drivin' from his home." Okay, so maybe I'm not being sarcastic so much as bitter. In any case, Wolverine gave me a sneer and walked onto the jet, followed by Cyclops and Stormy.

Xandy had already beaten us to the car. I went around and opened Rogue's door for her. Hey, I grew up with Tante Mattie. You better mind your manners if there's ever any tiny, slight, possible chance she might ever hear about it.

Settling myself back in the driver's side, I checked all my mirrors, made sure the back doors were locked, (If Xandy can open the damn door when we're stationary, he can sure as hell do it when we're moving) and checked to make sure Xandy was strapped in right. Once we were on the road, Xandy felt the need to introduce Rogue to Greta. She was talking back to Greta whenever Xandy would talk for her, and I didn't even try to hold back a grin.

"What're ya smilin' about, Swamp Rat?" she asked when she noticed me.

"Jus' dat a dignified X-Man femme is carryin' out a conversation wit' a stuffed alligator.

"Ah happen to like alligators, thank you very much." I just chuckled. The car fell into comfortable silence for a while.

It wasn't long until Xandy gave a gasp.

"Wow, Pere! Are we gonna live dere? I hope so! It's way prettier dan our mansion—An' look! It has a pool!"

"Don' know if we gonna live dere, p'tite. But we gonna find out, non?" By now Xandy is practically vibrating in is seat. Poor kid's been in the car for way too long.

As soon as I pull the car to a stop in front of the mansion's entrance, he jumped out of the car and hit the ground running. He did a lap around the car as I got out, and another one as I opened Rogue's door for her. As Rogue and I walked up to the door, he ran off to go look at something or other. I sighed.

"C'mon, Xandy! Y' should come in wit' us. 'M sure Stormy can show y' around later." I tried to get him to come with us.

"Non, Pere! Vous avez à me rattraper !" (No, Dad! You have to catch me!) I heaved another sigh and started running after him. Note that children, despite their short legs, are extremely fast little creatures and are hard to catch. This being the case, it was harder to catch him when it caused me pain to pump my left arm. You know, the whole 'getting hit by a bone spike' thing.

I do catch up to him after about ten minutes of hard running, though. I'm panting. When this kid was born, I thought it would be a piece of cake keeping up with him. I'm a master thief and former acolyte, I'm the goddamn Gambit!

Boy was I wrong.

Anyway, I grabbed him and carried him upside down to the mansion. He was still laughing and a bit red faced when I set him just inside the foyer door. Stormy walked up just then.

"Remy, the Professor would like to speak with you. Show him to the Professor's office, Rogue?" she asked.

"Sure, 'Ro. This way," she said to me and walked toward the stairs. I looked back to see Stormy talking to Xandy.

"Look after him, will y' Stormy?" I ask.

"Gambit, how many times have I told you not to call me that?" she asks with a long-suffering sigh.

"Too many. But yo' will?"

She nods and I start to follow Rogue. We go up the stairs, turn a right, go past a few doors, until we stop in front of the fifth one on the left.

"Have fun, sugah." She walks away, and I'm left in front of the formidable double-doors. I'm about to knock when a voice speaks in my mind, _Please come in, Gambit. _

Well, here goes nothin.'


	3. Blame The Antiseptic, Hank

AN/ Holy FACK you guys. I love you! I got eight reviews from the time I posted to the time I got up next morning. (Okay, so it was more like 1 in the afternoon.) Y'all make me wanna write MOAR! :D :D :D

On with the show!

XxXxXxXxX

Professor's POV:

He may not know it, but the young man sitting across from me in my office at this moment looks, quite frankly, like he's been run over by a truck. He has dark circles under his eyes, and a weary look about him. His dark auburn hair is messy and tangled, and it looks like he slept in his clothes. By the set of his shoulders, I can tell he is stressed beyond belief. There is also the matter of the wound on his arm, he really should get that looked at by Henry. I try to send calm emotions toward him, but I had forgotten about his heavy mental shields. I feel bad for him, he is so obviously distressed over something, and I can do nothing about it.

"Gambit, if I may ask, what brought you back up north?"

"Um, family situations, Sir." I can't help but crack a smile at the "Sir" comment. He is well mannered for a thief.

"Ah. I see. Well, then, are you looking for a place to stay?" It is the least I can do.

"I wouldn' want t' impose," he starts. But some of a though leaks through, he's thinking, _though I really don't have anywhere else._

"You wouldn't impose at all, I assure you. If I can manage to house half a dozen teenagers and a throng of college-age kids, I'm sure we can handle you and your young son." His shoulders sag in relief.

"Merci, Professor." He shifts in his chair a bit, unsure what to say. I help him out a bit,

"There's a phone in the hallway just outside. Perhaps you would like to call someone in New Orleans and tell them you got here alright?" he nods and exits the room.

I can tell it's going to be interesting having him and his son live here. I just hope that when the inevitable tensions between Scott and our newest member come to a head, there won't be too much aftermath.

XxXxXxXxX

Remy's POV:

Well, if that wasn't just awkward. Seeing that man again, after all these years, is bringing up all the old guilt. I mean, he's an old man! And I was working for his enemy trying to crush all his lifelong dreams. I'm thinking that Wolverine was probably very correct in calling me a slimebag. I feel slimy.

The professor's parting words had been true, I need to call Pere and Henri. And I'm probably going to have to try and pacify Tante Mattie about leaving without saying goodbye. But a phone in a hallway seems a bit too public for that…

I walk until I get back to the stairs, and try to remember from old schematics where everything is. I'm pretty sure that nobody will be in the lower levels right now, and I'm almost positive that there's a phone mounted on the wall in the Medlab. Ugh. Labs… For some reason they make me uneasy, same case with hospitals. I hate them. But I need to contact my family and I really need to clean and bandage my arm.

I head down the stairs and to the right, bypass the hall that leads to the common rooms, and come to an elevator. That's what I'm looking for! Looking around while I wait for the elevator, I realize that this place is almost frozen in time. I guess life here hasn't changed much. Same can't be said for myself…

Stepping out of the elevator on the lowest level of the mansion, I had turned the corner to see glass doors leading to a white room. It had lots of used up counterspace, (books and notes and beakers) and it looked like a science lab. Through some more glass doors, though, I could see some beds with heart monitors and IV holders.

I walked in and opened the first cabinet I saw. No, looks like… Twinkies? Well if that's what they feed the patients around here, I might start despising check ups a tiny bit less.

The next was pills and prescription papers, and I finally yielded results when I found gauze and antiseptic in the third cabinet. Looking around, I found the sink and the pone was mounted on the wall next to it. I dialed the personal phone in Pere's office and hit the speakerphone button so I could tend to my arm.

"Bonjour, LeBeau speaking."

"Hey Pere."

"Remy! Y' wanna tell me where de hell y' are an' why y' dere? An' where's my grandson!"

"In short, an' in order, we're in New York, we're her because mon chienne of a wife ordered a hit on Alexander, and he's in de kitchen wit' Stormy currently, if I'm not mistaken." (chienne: bitch)

"Stormy? As in Ororo?"

"Oui, dat's de one. Ain't like we know any other Stormy's."

"Ah. An' y' say Belladon… What _is _dat sound?"

"Dat would be me struggling t' use une hand t' rip gauze b'cause I don' know where any damn scissors are!" In doing so, I had knocked over the bottle of antiseptic, which spilled all over the front of my jeans and the floor. I had also knocked what looked to be some very carefully laid out notes for an experiment, which were now getting soaked with antiseptic. Fan-fuckin'-tastic.

"Merde!" I curse. "I don' even know what dat stuff is!"

Then, suddenly, there are large, clawed, and furry blue hands picking up the end of my gauze strip and cutting it off to a good length for me.

"Jesus! How long you been in here, Blue?"

"Actually, I was in the other room running some DNA work from Scotland… I decided I should probably come help you after I heard the 'scissors' comment… Oh, dear." Beast picked up his soggy notes. "I'm going to have to rewrite all of this."

"Desole, I—"

"Who is dat, Remy?"

"I'm Henry McCoy, the resident medical practitioner and scientist for Xavier's School for the Gifted," he answers for me.

"Y' didn' say y' were dere, Remy! Of all de places!" Pere says. "Really Remy! Dey're yo enemies!"

"Non, Pere. Not anymore," I say firmly. I really want to stop this tirade before he starts it. It's not like I wasn't hearing this same damn rant for a whole month after I brought Rogue down to New Orleans. He was grateful to her, of course, those assassins had him trussed up all nice to kill. Nonetheless, when he found out that the girl I had brought into guild business was one of the people I was supposed to be sworn against, (and that I was quite taken with her,) he flipped out.

"Fils, y' know as well as anyone down in N'Awlins that a man who is once y' enemy, _always _y' enemy." I roll my eyes at this as I start to help Henry clean up the mess I made. "An' de oh-so-_lovely _Marius Boudreaux taught me dat. Hell, all de Boudreaux people, since de beginning of de guilds. Candra _intended _fo' de guilds t' be two halves o' a whole unit. But nooo—Stupid Boudreaux wanted de elixir as well as de power! He made an attempt on de life o' de firs' LeBeau patriarch! De end result is de same—y' jus' can't trust dem!" (Fils: son)

"Y' do realize dat I'm goin' t' ignore everyt'ing y' jus' said, Pere? De X-Men are NOT assassins! Dey're good people headed by dis professor who's _so _good dat he offered a lowly, t'ievin' rat like me a place in his household wit'out second thought."

"But Remy—"

"Non, Pere! Dis is prob'ly de safest place in de world for me to raise Xandy. His eyes make him an obvious mutant, an' y' know what? Even if I did believe dis crock y' tryin' t' sell me, I wouldn' leave dis place. Xandy got his mutation today."

"Merde."

"Yeah. So, if y' don' have anyt'ing else t' say, 'm gonna go find my son." And I pressed the end call button. "Crotchety ol' man," I muttered. Beast smirked.

"I take it you two are not exactly the best of friends?" he asked.

"Somet'ing like dat," I replied. "Sorry 'bout de mess. Didn' mean t' screw up y' research or anyt'ing."

"It's fine, I wasn't that far along with it. It was maybe a day's work that was ruined, that's all." He got a mischievous glint on his eye. "But to make up for it, you could do some filing down here. I can always use the help," he says. I can't believe I've been here twenty minutes and I'm already being roped into chores. But I look around the Medlab and see that he's right. The lab portion is _covered_ in science notes, pages of math, folders and books galore. It doesn't look untidy, though. It's actually very straight and neat. But there is almost NO space on any horizontal surface in here.

"You see," he gestures around. "I get into my work and really don't find the time to put it all away before I stumble over to that couch to sleep," he motions to a pea-green shaggy couch in the corner of the room. For some reason I'm reminded of Greta Gator. "And if I'm in a particularly energetic mood, I stumble up to my bedroom instead. Either way, I really don't do my own filing work."

I nod and head out the door with promises of returning a different day to file. I really need to find Xandy.

"Oh, and Mr. LeBeau?" he calls out. I look over my shoulder toward the door. "Next time, get me or Jean to bandage you up. Wouldn't want you to knock over any beakers of acid, now."

XxXxXxXxX

"An' den, we drived in de car fo' a really long time. An' dat was how my bir'day went!" Xandy finished what was probably an epic story as I walked into the kitchen. Stormy looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Seems you two have been busy. But one must wonder, why would you come on a special birthday trip so unprepared?" she asked me. Seems she wasn't believing my story nearly as easily as Xandy was. Damn, how I wish Stormy was a five-year-old.

"Err, it's b'cause I knew y' would be able to put us up fo' a while, no trouble. I mean, yo' live in a mansion." As I said this, the redhead walked in. Saved by the psychic.

"Gambit!" she exclaims and telekinetically throws me up against a wall. Okay, so maybe I'm not exactly _saved_, per se.

"Hey! Stop doin' dat t' my daddy!" Xandy yells. He runs over to her and starts beating on her leg with his little fists. She loses her concentration and I drop to the floor gracefully like a sack of rocks. I walk over to Xandy, pick him up, and throw him over my shoulder.

"Y' don' hit a lady, fils." I set him down on the counter where he had been when he was talking to Stormy.

"You have a son?" the redhead asks. I think her name started wit' a J…

"Yeah, Janine. Obviously," I say as I gesture to Xandy.

"That's Jean," she informs me. Oh well. I was only a little bit off. I look over at Stormy to see that she's trying to hide a bout of laughing.

"What's so funny, eh Stormy?"

"That's the third time today that someone's been able to get the uppher hand on you, Remy. I think you're losing your touch."

"Hell no I ain't!" I protest. "I jus' have a lot on my mind, is all." Janine looks a bit confused as to our familiarity. I decide to get Stormy back. "Well, I bet y' can't even open a lock in under thirty seconds anymore."

"Oh, yes I can. Unlike some people, I practice the skills that I hone to perfection."

"Y' t'ink I don' practice my t'ievin' skills, Stormy? I am offended," I joke.

"Wait, Ororo, were you a thief when you lived in New Orleans?" Janine asks.

"Yep," I answer for Stormy. "She would still hold a master rank, if she ever took jobs t' be evaluated on. Y' really should get y' rank reinstated, Stormy. Y' know dat y' gotta either stay active in de field or reinstate every trois years."

"I am not a thief anymore, Remy. You know that."

"But y' still family t' de LeBeaus. Y' know it killed Pere dat we lost y' right after we lost ma Mere."

"K just couldn't live in that house anymore Remy. Alexandra was my best friend, and the guild house had so much that reminded me of her."

"Oui, but d' y' t'ink it was easy fo' Pere, bein' in dat house? She was his wife, for god sakes! She was Henri's biological mother, she was something to everyone that lived in dat house an' y' were de only one dat left. We missed y,' Chere." It looked like she was going to reply, but Janine cut in.

"Uh, Gambit? I think your son took off." I look around for Xandy, he's nowhere in sight.

"Oh, merde."

That kid sure as hell knows how to disappear.

"Was it because of what we were saying?" Stormy asks worriedly.

"Non, he just don' like t' sit still fo' a long time. Especially now, lord knows he been sittin' still long enough in de past day an' a half." I walk out of the kitchen to start looking for him.

"He's in the back yard," Janine says. I look over and see her hands up to her temples.

"Merci, Janine," I say before I run off in the direction of the backyard.

"It's Jean!"


	4. White Turtlenecks and Heroics Don't Mix

AN/ I AM SO PSYCHED! AHAHAHAHAAA! I just watched yesterday's game. NEW ORLEANS WON THE KICKOFF GAME! AAAAAHHHHHH! :D:D:D:D:D:D:D And that makes me want to do something! I'm a fairly boring person, so when I say 'do something' I mean write. Lucky for you guys, eh? On with the show!

XxXxXxXxX

Rogue's POV

I was just hanging out outside, over in the gardens, when I heard the scream. I jumped up, scattering the books I had with me all over the ground. As soon as I looked toward the mansion, my eye was drawn to the pool. There was something thrashing around. Something small—Xandy!

I hopped over a couple of hedges in my rush to get over there. I saw someone dash out of the back door of the mansion, but paid no attention as I jumped into the water in the middle of the pool and grabbed Xandy. He clung to my shoulders, and I was thankful for the cold weather that had pushed me to wear a turtleneck.

"Rogue! Xandy!" I'm pretty sure that was Remy, but it could have been Storm or Jean, they had come out with him, and I had water in my ears.

Remy kneeled at the poolside, and picked me up out of the water bridal style. Damn. The guy is strong. I might look light, but everything on my body is muscle, and muscle weighs more than fat. And Xandy's pretty big for a five-year old, tall. Must get it from his daddy.

"You deux okay?" He asks us. Xandy nods. Gambit looks at me expectantly.

"Uhh… Yeah." Wow. I'm just so amazingly graceful. Gawd.

And then he carries us both to the mansion. All the way. I could drool. Not only is he tall and handsome as hell, he's strong and a gentleman. I really _really _hope that Jeannie isn't hearing any of this, I would never ever live it down. What? You didn't expect me to just fall for the Swamp Rat and pledge my undying love, did you? Need I remind everyone that my skin kills people… _guns_ don't kill people, nuh-uh. _I_ kill people, with _my skin_.

Damn. Now I just ruined that song for myself.

"Rogue?" someone asks. They're all looking at me funny. I think they were asking me a question.

"Uh… Sure." I hope that's right.

"Oh. Well, t'anks f' de show, den, p'tite," Remy says with an exaggerated glance at my chest. I think the question was probably along the lines of: "Hey, do you know you're sweater is white and you're drenched?"

"Oh! Ah…" I really don't have anything to say to that. I have since been relieved of Xandy by Storm, but Remy is still carrying me. He sets me down and peels of his wet (my fault) red polo, and hands it to me. I put it on gratefully.

"Uhm. Ah should get changed," I say as I walk toward the stairs. My room is one of the ones in the right-hand wing, where the instructor's dorms and the professor's office are. I have to say, It's a lot nicer than sharing with kitty had been.

I really hope Remy lets me live this down. What was I thinking, white sweater and no bra? Lord.

XxXxXxXxX

Remy's POV

I went out to the car and got our suitcase, then Stormy showed me to a room in the instructor's wing. She set Xandy on the counter in the connected bathroom, still sobbing and coughing and still dripping wet.

"Merci, Stormy." She just nodded and smiled warmly before leaving.

I rummaged through the suitcase, trying to find some PJ's for Xandy. Well, there's something I need to buy. Instead I grabbed one of my t-shirts. It would completely swallow him up.

"Pere?" he called from the bathroom. I practically sprinted the few feet to the bathroom.

"'M right here, chere." He leapt into my arms.

"Ever'ting was all black an' cold!" I gulped at that. I hadn't realized just how close he had been to… No. I won't go there.

"You gonna be fine, p'tite." I had him change into the t-shirt after he dried off.

A bit later, after I had gotten him Greta Gator, I held him as he fell asleep. I had to suppress a sob, lest I wake up the child sleeping on my chest. One day. We've been gone one day and he's already been in danger because of my brainlessness twice. Oh, god. He was so much safer with a whole guild looking after him. I'm a terrible father. What was I thinking! I will never be able to pull this off. I'm a single parent. The thought shocks me.

How did he end up like this? Oh, right. Bitch-a-donna. I thought I loved her. Hell, I had loved her. And she turned around and shoved that love down my throat hard enough to make me want to throw it up.

I really need a drink.

XxXxXxXxX

AN/ Short chapter. And kinda (okay, really) angsty at the end. But, whatta ya gonna do? He's a single parent. And Belladonna's a total bitchbag. I'll post more later!

Sorry it's so short, but this _is _the second chapter I've put out today. All those reviews in my inbox just psyche me out and make me wanna write! That, and my saints won the kickoff game. WOOOOOO! Haha! That's right Minnesota, you ain't got nothin! Sorry to any Vikings fans out there, but damn! XD Woooo! SAINTS!

lol sorry. Write more later.

—Zandra :3


	5. I Sense a Trend Here

AN/ I am so tired. Literally, I'm running on four hours of sleep and a buttload of coffee. Eh.

So, to stay awake, I bring you another chapter. Enjoy.

XxXxXxXxX

Remy POV:

I woke up the next morning and disentangled myself from Xandy. It really was very cute, one of his feet was on my shoulder and he was drooling on my chest a little bit.

I figured he was out for a couple of hours, so I quietly got to the bathroom, stripped off, and turned the water on. Stepping in, I soaped up my hair, and was almost about to wash it out when I heard a loud THUNK! from the hallway. I didn't think anything of it, really. After all, this is a mutant school. It's where you go when you can't control your powers.

I didn't think anything of it until I heard Xandy scream, "PERE!" and I ripped the shower curtain open and grabbed the one small towel off of the bar to wrap around my waist. Hair still soaped up, I beat out of there like a bat out of hell, dripping my way to the open bedroom door and the hallway.

XxXxXxXxX

Rogue's POV

I was walking to my bedroom from my daily morning DR session with Logan. Rounding the corner, I saw Xandy open the door to the room he slept in with Remy. He peeked out and tiptoed away, then broke into a run down the hallway. About four steps into his escape, he tripped over his own feet and fell into the wall, head cracking against it.

"PERE!" he shouted. He held his head in his hands, and started crying. I started running as fast as I could to him, and kneeled down. Lord, is this child a disaster magnet. The bedroom door flew all the way open, and there stood a Greek Adonis wrapped only in a tiny, little towel. He was dripping wet, and there was soap running from his hair and onto his face. Oh my god, he's delicious…

I think I just had a mind-gasm.

He rushed over to us, and picked up Xandy.

XxXxXxXxX

Remy's POV

I wrenched the door open, and a few feet down the hallway, Xandy was yet again crying in Rogue's arms. I had a strange sense of De ja Vous… At least he hadn't half drowned this time.

I rushed over to them, and picked up Xandy. As I stood back up straight, My towel fell to the ground. I glanced down at it, and then at Rogue's face. Moments of accidental voyeurism seem to be happening a lot between us.

Now, I have nothing to hide. I'm very confident about my body, overly confident, some might argue. About _every _part of my body. Hey, I'm just awesome. Can't argue with facts.

But I doubt Rogue has ever seen a naked male in person. Especially from the look on her face.

"Um. I gotta… Y' know, Xandy." I say as I walk back into the bedroom. I close the door behind me as I sit Xandy on the bed. I grab a pair of sweats real fast, because there's a knock at the bedroom door.

"Ya forgot this," says Rogue when I open the door. She seems to have composed herself and is now smirking and holding out the little white towel.

"Merci," and I return her smirk. I expect her to make a comment, but she does nothing more than turn and walk to what I assume is her room. I really need to figure out this fille.

XxXxXxXxX

Rogue's POV

If I didn't have I mind-gasm before he dropped the towel, I had one after.

Yes, mind-gasm is a word. I think. Whatever, it's my word…

"_Well, that is something I definitely never needed to see." _

Shut up, Magneto.

"_Is that any way to speak to your elders?"_

No, but you don't ever see me respecting Logan, do ya? And he's an effing dinosaur. And how did you get past the wall, anyway?

"_Apparently naked men weaken your mental walls, my dear."_

Yeah… Well… I'll weaken your walls!

And then he laughs. Which pisses me off. So I slam up a wall against him. I'm going to have a migraine now, but at least I can escape the running commentary that is Magneto.

Old coot.

I hope you heard that, Lensherr!

Truth is, I was really embarrassed about my psyches finding out about my utter, unabashed voyeurism. I know that they're only copies of real people, but they are people nonetheless.

I have just seen the finest specimen of the male body on the earth, (save Hugh Jackman) and I am now trying to shut up the people in my head after their conversation makes me blush.

Crazy? Who, me? _Never. _

Right…

XxXxXxXxX

Xandy's POV

I woke up and Pere had been in the bathroom. I had really needed to find another bathroom, quick! There was something wrong with my hands. And then, I run out to find one, and get hurt again. I seem to be getting hurt a lot. It's really annoying and I wish it would stop happening. And then Pere's Rogue was at the door. They talked, she left, and Pere was just staring out the door. He should move, I really need to get out of that door.

As soon as he walks back into the bathroom to turn off the water, I run to the door and throw it open to get to a bathroom. My hands hurt, they tingle and burn. Tante Mattie always told me that if my hands burned, I had probably touched a bad plant and I should wash my hands.

I had touched bad plants before, but my hands never felt this bad. I was running down the hall now, trying to find a bathroom. I need a sink! It hurts! And now I can feel it up my arms, too! A tear runs down my face. Finally, I find a bathroom. The door is already partially open, which is good. I don't want to touch _anything _right now!

I don't have time to turn the dumb water on in the sink! I look over at the potty. Tante Mattie said I should never play in the Potty, it's dirty and then I have to take a bath. But my hands and arms hurt so bad, that I run over and shove them in the water up to my elbows. It's not helping! I splash my arms around in the water, hoping it will start to feel better. Then one of my hands touches the bottom of the bowl, and the whole potty starts glowing blue. Oh. Oh!

I know what glowing means. It means I can't let go. Or else everything goes boom.

I hope someone finds me soon. I'm too scared to yell for help.

XxXxXxXxX

Remy's POV

I stick my head into the shower, to rinse my hair, and turn it off when I'm done. I walk out to find that Xandy is yet again missing from the room, the door flung wide open. Good lord, the kid's mutant name should be Houdini.

I walk out of the room and down the hall.

What the hell? There's some kind of weird light coming from the bathroom. I hear a whimper. Oh, god. That's Xandy. What if he fell again? He took a pretty hard knock to the head already.

"Oh SHIT!"

He's charging the toilet. HE'S CHARGING THE FREAKIN TOILET!

"Don' let go, Xandy!" I tell him.

"I know!" he whines. "But it keeps getting' brighter an' I can't stop!" he looks like he's about to start crying.

"Jus' don' let go," I say softly as I step into to bathroom. He's charged the thing so much that if he were to let go now, he would kill me, himself, and everyone in this half of the wing. "Everyt'ing will be alright," I say. I'm not sure if I'm saying this for him or for me.

I reach out and touch the edge of the bowl, absorbing his charge. When I finally take it all in, I let out a sigh and reach for my kid. If this boy lives to see his seventh birthday, I'm buying him a toystore.

"We're gonna go see de professor," I say. He nods. I hold out my hand, but he doesn't take it. Instead he hunches over and folds his arms across his chest.

"Y' won't hurt me, fils." (fils: son)

"I don' wanna touch nothin.'" My heart hurts for him.

"Dat's fine."

And we start for the professor's office.


	6. Little too psychotic for my tastes

AN/ The plot bunnies were attacking my brain. It's 2:30 in the morning now as I start writing this. So, I apologize in advance if there's any suckiness on my part. Anyhoo. Chapter starts from Remy's point of view again. On with the show!

XxXxXxXxX

I raise my hand to knock on the Professor's office door, when I hear, "Come in, Gambit," from inside.

"Y' know, dat's really creepy," I grumble as I walk inside.

Xandy and I sit down on the couch off to the side of the room. What can I say, sitting in the two chairs exactly opposite the Professor's desk is just far too cliché for me. Xavier wheels over to us.

"I would like to get right to the point," he says, looking worried. "I sensed extremely high levels of distress coming from both of you just a moment ago. Care to tell me why that is?"

I was actually pretty surprised at this. The Professor was one to exchange pleasantries with, a guy who seemed to exude 'manners.' But he sure as hell wasn't beating around the bush now.

"Long story short, Xandy almost blew everyt'ing t' kingdom come," I inform him. He turns to Xandy at that.

"Were you trying to charge something? If you feel you need training, we can—"

"I weren't tryin' t' do nothin' except get my hands t' stop burning!" he cut off the professor woefully. "An' den I accidentally touched it an' it went all blue! I was waitin' dere for a really long time!" Please let it be noted that, from the time I left him in the bedroom to rinse my hair, to when I found him, was maybe seven minutes.

"I see," the Professor murmured absently. "Alexander, may I have permission to go inside your mind and take a look around? To see if there's a problem." I went queasy at that. I don't want anybody in my son's head, dammit! Xandy's eyes get wide and panicked.

"I don' want y' t' cut me open!" he cried. Oh… Kay… I looked at the Professor. He was fighting a smile.

"I won't cut your head open, child, I promise," he says. "I have a special gift, like you."

"Like mon Pere?"

"Yes, like your dad. But, unlike him, I don't blow things up. I can use my mind to be inside other people's minds. So, may I take a look?" Xandy thinks for a minute and nods.

Xavier places his hands at either side of my son's head, maybe an inch away from touching him outright. He closed his eyes in concentration, and I sat there and watched them. After about ten minutes, he pulled away and turned to face me.

"Since his mutation was triggered prematurely, his mind has not had he time to grow and mature. Due to this, Alexander is able to generate, but not store, kinetic energy, much like yourself. Like you, he is ever generating this energy, but with nowhere to put that energy once it's made, he'll go around accidentally charging things. The best solution until he is able to retain a charge, is to have something small on him at all times to charge. I would advise that you do this soon, he's due to overload again in an hour at least."

I let out a sigh of relief. There's something we can do. Just knowing that made me feel a lot better.

"I'm gonna get better at dis?" Xandy asked the professor.

"Yes, child. All it takes is time, and some practice. You'll get the hang of it," he reassured warmly. Xandy then stood up from the couch and climbed into Xavier's lap, hugging him fiercely. The Professor's warm smile broadened into a warmer grin as he hugged Xandy back.

Times like these I wish I had a camera.

XxXxXxXxX

"He is sooo Hot! With, like, a capital H!" I heard Rogue's friend, Kitty talking. "Like, come on Rogue. He's sexy. Even you have to admit that!" I was quite interested at this, and stopped before I got to the kitchen door. I wonder who they're talking about.

"Ah don't have to admit anythin' ta anyone. Especially not ya, miss blabbermouth."

"Aww! You know you like, totally love him!"

"No, ah don't! Okay granted he's nice, and he's pretty hot. But Ah hardly know the guy."

"Oh, come on Rogue. You've absorbed him like three times. And if you didn't totally love him, then what do you keep under your pillow, huh? I believe it is a—"

"Shut up, Kit! Ah don't keep those there anymore."

"Wait, you had more than one?"

"Ah may have stolen one when he was passed out that one time when Ah was under Mesmero's control…"

Okay. This is getting annoying. Who are they talking about? I thought it might have been me, but now I'm not so sure!

"But th' only reason I kept those damn lighters under my pillow was because Ah still had his psyche floating around in my head! And Pyro doesn't go _anywhere_ without a lighter." Pyro!

"but you still carry a lighter!"

"That's because I smoke, kit. You know that."

"Wait, you smoke! When did that happen?"

"Ya're really dense sometimes, ya know that Kit? And Ah don't like Pyro. Little too… Psychotic for my tastes."

"Hmm. You're right, I hadn't thought of that. You like kind of mysterious, rugged guys…"

"Yep."

Mysterious and rugged? Well then. I may have just won the jackpot…

"Oh my gosh! You should totally get together with Logan!"

"Eeew, Kitty! That is so not funny, Ah don' even know how to… There are not enough letters in the word 'no' ta express the no-ness of my no!" she all but shouted at Kitty.

"Well, what? He's as mysterious and rugged as they come, and he's really sexy! And besides, you've said yourself that you love him."

My jaw clenches at that.

XxXxXxXxX

Rogue's POV

Oh lord. She's actually going there. Ew… Just, ew.

"Yeah, Kit! As like, a father type figure! Not as a lover! Ah now need to repress the urge to barf!"

Kitty rolls her eyes. Me? And LOGAN? I don't even want to comprehend the incestuous implications of that! And besides, I'm pretty sure he and Storm have something going on.

"But come on! Just think of your couple name! Rogan! Isn't that awesome!"

"No. It's revolting."

"Aw." She pouts. "Well, you've gotta like someone around here!"

"That's none of your business!" I'm not going down without a fight, that's for sure.

"You, like, totally do! I can see it in your eyes!" Well. Now she's a poet.

"And so what if I do?" I think I managed to pull off 'bored' in that statement.

"OMG!" she squeals. Guess not. "You love gambit!" Well fuckshit.

"How the hell did ya get that from six frickin words?" I yell-whisper. We really can't have anyone knowing this. I shall have to blackmail Kitty into not telling people…

Just then said love interest walks in.

"Aww, chere, y' love dis Cajun? Really and truly? I'm touched."

"Ah don't _love _YOU!" I said. Really. I don't. The man is sex personified, but love and lust are two different things. I think… But wait. Any time I thought a guy was hot, and he ended up being a total jerkwad, or just someone who I wouldn't be interested in, they automatically turned unattractive. Well fuck…

I must have been making some easily readable faces during the duration of my thinking, because Remy was grinning at me. Fucking grinning. As in 'I know what you're thinking without being a telepath' grinning.

"Goddamnit!" I cursed as I ran out of the kitchen.

I'm pretty sure I got out of there before I started blushing… And there is now a chuckle behind me. Damn it!

Curse Kitty and her loud, loud mouth.

XxXxXxXxX

AN/ I'm a terrible person. I had this chapter up, save like the last paragraph and a half, for a while now. I got you all used to daily updates of this damn thing, and then I go and leave you hanging… Esh. And it's kinda a short chapter too. You may all throw apples at me now.


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